Saving Grace
by TranquilChaos
Summary: Cassandra Aldaine is just a lonely Fifth Year Slytherin, sick of bullies and being ignored. So when Dumbledore approaches her with a chance to stop Voldemort's rise to power, she accepts. But what if stopping the most evil wizard in history means giving up her own life ... or even her heart? Time-travel, OC/Tom Riddle
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys, this is my first fanfiction so if there's anything weird going on with my writing, feel free to give me any advice and constructive criticism. I'm sorry this first chapter is so short. I just felt like this was a good place to end it. (It gets better, I promise)**  
 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Cassandra Aldaine.**

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Chapter 1

She had no idea what to do …  
Professor Trelawney had been especially superstitious in today's Divination lesson, hovering over Cassandra Aldaine's tea leaves with irritating concern. 'Oh, my dear,' she'd crooned dramatically. 'This is a strange omen indeed.'  
Cass looked down at the vaguely 8-shaped splotch of foliage plastered to the bottom of her cup. It looked like nothing in particular. Giving the professor a sceptical glance, she wondered for her sanity.  
Huge hypnotising eyes stared back at her, freezing Cassandra like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, the woman leapt across the room to a dusty bookshelf. Glancing back at her, the woman slid a huge leather bound volume out and dumped it onto the table with a puff of dust. 'Take this and your teacup – I want them back – and write me a short essay on the meaning of the leaves.'  
With that, she drifted off across the room, leaving Cassandra helplessly confused.

That had been hours ago and Cass now sat in the Slytherin common room, staring holes into the flowery cup that supposedly held her destiny. She flipped through the musty book bursting with rough sketches of various omens and an illegible text that, for all she knew, could be a different language entirely. Cassandra felt foolish. Divination was such a ridiculous subject. She didn't know why she chose it, other than the expectation that it would be easy enough to get top marks. She'd been wrong. It seemed that certain people had a natural aptitude for the class. Cassandra was not one of those people.  
In all of her other classes, Cassandra excelled, outperforming every student in her year, including Hermione Granger, who'd had a particular distaste for her since first year, when she'd gained the affection of Professor McGonagall despite being a Slytherin.  
Shaking her head to clear it, Cass concentrated on the pages before her and was soon absorbed.  
Engrossed with translating the script, Cassandra was unaware of a pale-haired boy with a permanent sneer creep up behind her. In one quick movement, he snatched the teacup from her hand and bounced back a few steps. 'What do you have here?' he said cruelly.  
'Draco!' Cassandra cried, rushing to her feet. 'Please, give it back.'  
' _Please, give it back!_ ' Draco Malfoy mocked in a whiney voice. 'Why? Hoping you'll meet tall, dark and handsome?'  
His disgusted gaze swept down her small boney frame, cloaked in second-hand robes, and back up to her wild, unbrushed red hair. 'Not likely, half-blood.'  
'Malfoy.' A nasally voice drawled. 'Are you a child?'  
Draco spun, a guilty expression on his face. 'Sir?'  
Professor Snape stood in the middle of the common room, his annoyed gaze set on Draco. 'I asked you, boy, are you a child?'  
Draco's gaze dropped to conceal his impertinent expression. 'No, sir.'  
'Then stop acting like one.' Draco opened his mouth, but Snape had already turned away, clearly dismissing the boy.  
A muscle in Draco's jaw clenched, but his confidence returned and he levelled an arrogant glance at Cassandra. She cocked her head in disbelief as he strutted off, tossing the cup high and catching it again. Helpless, she watched her top marks fade away. As a wave of nausea washed over her, Snape materialised.  
'Listen here, Aldaine. You need to learn to stand up for yourself. I won't be here every time. Do you understand?'  
Cassandra stared at him blankly for a few seconds before nodding. 'I understand, sir.'  
'Good.' Snape nodded and walked away.  
Weary, Cassandra headed for the girls' dormitory, dragging her feet. Little did she know, sketched on the open pages of that thick book, a figure 8-shaped blotch marked the rarest destiny to ever be predicted.

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 **Kind of a cheesy ending but whatever. :P  
Thank you for reading the first chapter of Saving Grace! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next morning, Cassandra drifted awake to the gentle lull of the Great Lake. Rolling over, she gazed out of a porthole. Just as the tentacles of the great squid bloomed into view, she realised she couldn't hear the atrociously loud snores of her roommate, Millicent Bulstrode. Bolting up, she quickly checked the room, only to find that each bed was unoccupied and neatly made.  
'Oh, God. Why didn't my alarm clo—?'  
The alarm clock lay shattered on the stone floor.  
Draco.  
How he managed to infiltrate the girls' dorm, Cassandra didn't know, but she was certain it had been him.  
Draco Malfoy and his pack of thugs had relentlessly tormented her for four years and it appeared he had no intention to stop now. It began when they were all in First year. When she'd stepped up in front of the entire school and had the Sorting Hat placed on her head, Draco had loudly mistaken her as a Weasley and made a distasteful comment about how 'that family breeds like rabbits'. Just after this, the Hat had shouted 'Slytherin', the one house she knew had a bad reputation for spitting out evil wizards. This, coupled with Draco's insult, made her burst into tears. Ronald Weasley had flushed redder than his hair and given Cassandra the evil eye. Since then he'd held a ridiculous grudge against her and Draco had discovered a sensitive girl to victimise.  
With a defeated sigh, Cassandra dragged on her dull grey uniform and her tattered robes, picked up her Potions books and mentally prepared herself for a class with Draco, Weasley _and_ Hermione. Her hand slipped into her pocket to find her wand but all she felt was emptiness. For a horrific second, she thought that Draco had taken it to further humiliate her. When she saw the end of it poking out from under her bed, she exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She inspected it as she picked it up. 11 inches, holly, with a unicorn hair core, embellished with a spiral pattern. How excited she'd been when she first received it.  
As she rushed through the common room and out into the halls, memories flooded Cassandra's brain: stepping into Ollivander's, being underwhelmed by the dust and dim lighting; expecting nothing to happen when she waved a wand, as if it was all just a big joke orchestrated to mortify her; receiving the slim white wand that made her glow on the inside and cause a brief flash of confidence to unfurl throughout her bones.  
That confidence soon disappeared completely. She'd be surprised if even ten other people at Hogwarts knew she existed.  
Cassandra hurried through the main courtyard, the clock tower's pendulum counting away the seconds. She glanced up at the clock face and skidded to a halt. It was 9:30. She'd missed half an hour of Potions. Not once had she ever been late to class. School was her only hope, her only salvation and now she'd blown it. In her mind, she saw Professor McGonagall's disappointment, Dumbledore shaking his head in scorn, Snape sneering at her with disgust. Warped versions of what the consequences of being late would be stalked her mind and clenched her heart. Deep down, she knew she was being ridiculous. But her lungs wouldn't fill with air anyway. Her hands shook so badly her books dropped onto the cobblestone.  
 _I'm having a panic attack_ , a reasonable part of her commented. _Come on, girl. Breathe._  
 _Inhale.  
Exhale.  
That's it, Cass._

By force of will, Cassandra drew oxygen in and blew it out, gradually regaining control over her body.  
The clock said five minutes had passed.  
Whimpering, Cass picked up her books and sprinted through the castle, down moving flights of stairs until she finally reached the Potions classroom. She burst through the door, out of breath and flushed. Every head in the room turned to stare at her. She stopped breathing at once and lowered her eyes to the ground ... but not before Ron Weasley flashed her a nasty sneer.  
'Miss Aldaine. Where have you been?' Snape droned with obvious disinterest. Cassandra heard Draco snigger quietly. She lifted her gaze to him and gave him the evilest look she could. He didn't look intimidated in the least.  
'I overslept, Sir.' She murmured in Snape's direction.  
'Sit. I trust you can copy notes in your state?'  
'A-ah, yes, Professor.' She stuttered, stumbling over to her desk, inconveniently placed directly in front of Draco's. Chuckles twittered through the class.  
' _A-a-a-a-ah, yes, Professor_.' Draco mimicked from behind her. Snape gave him a scathing glare and returned to the front of the classroom.  
As Cassandra prepared her books and quill, Draco whispered to her.  
'Smart girl's late. Wonder how that happened?' She heard the grin in his voice.  
Cass ignored him.  
'Forget to set your alarm?' Crabbe and Goyle snickered.  
Still, she refused to give him a reaction.  
'You know, Red, I hear you grew up with Muggles. What was that like? I've always imagined it to be … dirty. Well, of course, the way you turned out, it's quite obvious you didn't have any magical parents to raise you. I bet being an orphan is even worse than being raised in a Muggle pigsty.'  
Cassandra clamped her eyes and teeth together. Draco was far too close to home for her liking.  
'How _did_ your parents die? I heard one of them killed themselves. I bet your mother got one look at your face and offed herself.' His voice got softer.  
Draco's mouth pressed against her ear, his warm breath blowing across her cheek. Cassandra's throat was clenched with the effort to keep in tears.  
'Or maybe it was Papa?' he breathed.  
An unwelcome sob bubbled out of her chest. Draco's mouth curled in a smile.  
'If a Muggle was having my child, I'd kill myself, too.'  
She sucked in a breath. Why would someone say that? How could someone say that? What kind of evil person had the ability to say that to someone's face?  
Cassandra's entire body tightened, until her muscles were locked. Looking down, she found her knuckles were white and her hands had formed fists. Her nails cut deeply into her palms.  
It didn't take long for her to realise she had no control over her body. Her head slowly swung to face Draco's; they were a centimetre apart. So close she could have kissed him.  
Staring into his eyes, she felt something she'd never felt, something so violent that there wasn't a word to describe it. She felt certain she could have killed him in that moment.  
Draco's smile dropped away and fear bloomed on his face. Whatever he saw in her eyes terrified him. She watched her hand reach up to grasp the side of his neck, which confused him. Until her fist shattered his nose.  
Draco screamed in agony. Cassandra watched passively as students rushed forward to help him and Snape dragged her back across the classroom. It was only when Snape slapped her across the face that she truly came back to herself.  
Her mouth dropped open in horror as she looked upon the carnage she'd caused. Draco's nose was streaming blood and at least two other students had passed out at the sight.  
She'd done this.  
How could she have done this?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A robed man with a huge tapering beard stared at Cassandra over his grand wooden desk. It was Dumbledore and he'd been staring at her silently for at least five minutes straight.  
After her assault on Draco, Snape had called for Madam Pomfrey and then towed Cassandra to Dumbledore's office. She hadn't resisted. After all, she _had_ broken his nose.  
Snape had left her at the door, told her to go sit by the desk and speak only when spoken to.  
And so, here she was, being silently examined by one of the most intimidating people she'd ever met. Wisdom was in the Headmaster's eyes, a sense that he knew everything you knew – and more. As if you were translucent to him and he could look through you like looking through a window.  
Just when she was about to speak against Snape's directions, Dumbledore steepled his fingers and began to talk.  
'I've been informed, Miss Aldaine, that you've had a slight falling-out with young Draco. Is that correct?'  
'You could say that. But, Sir, I can explain—'  
'There is no need, my dear.' He cut her off. 'Something that brings a person such as you to violence is something that deserves a punch in the face.'  
An unexpected giggle burst through Cassandra's lips.  
Behind his beard, Dumbledore smiled back at her but his face soon sobered. 'However, violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts and this cannot go unpunished.'  
Cass closed her eyes and nodded. 'I know. I just … can't believe I did this. I don't know what came over me.'  
What _did_ come over her? She'd only ever felt degrees of annoyance and irritation, never the kind of fury she'd experienced before hitting Draco. She'd been like a different person. How was she even strong enough to break his nose the way she did? She had twig arms. Dumbledore broke her train of thought.  
'There is no reason to fret. Simply apologise and it will set you free.' She opened her mouth to protest but Dumbledore continued to speak. 'It is likely Draco will not reciprocate, but being the bigger person is worth it.'  
Cassandra nodded in reluctant agreement, hating what she had to do.  
'Now, I will summon you again within the coming days to discuss your punishment. Be sure to make haste when this happens.'  
'Yes, Sir.' Shame flooded through her.  
'Good.' Dumbledore looked at his wrist-watch and his eyes widened. 'Look at the time. Head down to the Great Hall for lunch.'  
Dumbledore and Cassandra stood and he walked her to the door. With a nod of his head, she was dismissed. As she walked away, Dumbledore called out once more. She turned and was startled to see him intensely contemplating her.  
'Oh, Cassandra. Don't forget to resolve things with Draco.'  
The thick oak door creaked shut and Dumbledore was gone.

As soon as Cassandra stepped into the Great Hall, she saw Draco in the crowd. He was surrounded by his groupies: Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and a few other girls who worshipped at Draco's feet. A bandage was over his nose, but there was no bruising. Madam Pomfrey had done a good job fixing him up.  
Just then Pansy sat so close to him that she was practically in his lap and stroked his face with reverence. Draco smirked at her, pleased with the attention he was receiving.  
 _Oh, God. I can't do this_ , Cassandra thought to herself. She squeezed her eyes closed and blew out a breath.  
When she opened them again, Draco's eyes were on her. His face had darkened and he'd pushed Pansy away from him. Any will Cassandra had to go up and apologise disappeared. Her head had dropped and she was rushing for an empty seat along the Slytherin bench when Dumbledore's words came back to her. _Simply apologise and it will set you free_.  
He was right. Cassandra would never forgive herself if she didn't apologise to Draco. Only he could release her from the guilt she'd feel every time she saw him. It didn't matter what he said to provoke her, or how much he deserved it. Cass wasn't a violent person who could be normal after hurting another person. It just wasn't her.  
Steeling herself, Cassandra veered away from the table and walked as confidently as she could towards Draco. Just as she reached the posse, Crabbe and Goyle stepped up and towered over her, as effective as a brick wall.  
'I just want to talk to him.,' she whispered almost silently.  
'Wot?' Crabbe yelled thickly, leaning down to hear her better.  
'I said, I want to talk to Draco!' She called up at them, these thugs who were at least a foot taller than her.  
'No wa—'  
'Clear off, Red,' Draco's voice rang out from behind them. The hulking boys stepped out of her way and she approached the pale-haired boy. 'Didn't you hear m-?'  
'Shut up, Draco.' She snapped with courage she didn't have. Wherever all this change was coming from, maybe it wasn't all bad. Draco obviously didn't have the same appreciation for it. 'I've come to apologise.'  
'Apologise? Are you joking?' Draco's eyebrow quirked in disbelief. 'Apology not accepted. In fact, I reject your apology. I will get you back for what you did, you ginger-haired freak!'  
Cassandra flinched and stepped back in the face of Draco's anger. She barely noticed Pansy slink up next to her.  
'You better watch your back, bitch. We share a dorm room, remember,' she hissed threateningly.  
How could Cassandra forget? 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

For the next few days, Cassandra awaited Dumbledore's summons while avoiding Draco and Pansy as much as humanly possible. It didn't help that Pansy slept only metres away from her. Cass had taken to sleeping in the common room just in case Pansy felt the urge to strangle her in the middle of the night.  
Occasionally, she was forced to see Draco. In Potions, his hateful gaze burned the back of her neck.  
From the sharp pangs of regret she suffered, it was clear Draco's absolute dismissal of her apology had not eased her guilt. Wonderful.

Five days following the meeting in Dumbledore's office, Cassandra began to think he'd forgotten all about her punishment; until she spotted him staring her way during dinner in the Great Hall. Catching her eye, he nodded meaningfully.  
 _This is it_ , she thought.  
After dinner, Cassandra made her way to Dumbledore's office, dragging her feet. Punishment was the last thing she wanted. Waiting for Draco and his thugs to make a move was punishment enough in her mind. Somehow, she didn't think the Headmaster would agree.  
In Dumbledore's office, she sat in the same chair as last time and waited as Dumbledore once again studied her over his glasses.  
Finally he spoke. 'I have reconsidered the punishment.'  
Cassandra sat up hopefully but Dumbledore stayed silent for several more moments. It was infuriating. It took all of Cass's strength not to climb over the desk and shake him.  
'Cassandra, do you know the details of Voldemort's origin?' She jolted in shock. No one said You-Know-Who's name, let alone talked about his childhood.  
'U-uh, no, Professor.' She stuttered.  
'Tom Riddle's father abandoned his mother when he became aware of her pregnancy. After she died giving birth to Tom, he had no family. He was raised in a Muggle orphanage until his invitation into Hogwarts arrived. A suspicious child. He refused to believe he was a wizard until I had to show him an example of magic right there, in the orphanage.' Dumbledore chuckled at the memory. 'Oh, but he was a troubled boy, even then. Playing cruel tricks upon the other children in the orphanage. . . He grew into a handsome and charming but manipulative and cold young man. He excelled at his classes and quickly gained the attention of his peers. It was from there his Death Eater army stemmed. '  
Cassandra stayed silent, for Dumbledore seemed to be a sort of trance, staring off into the distance.  
'His circumstances were not unlike yours. Lonely childhood, with no parents to speak of, raised clueless of your true heritage.'  
The red-haired girl went rigid. Hurt and anger flowed through her. Did Dumbledore truly think she was like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? 'I am nothing like You— Voldemort! I'm not evil!'  
'You mistake me, child. Tom Riddle was not an evil boy. He was simply a child who seldom received the love any child should receive. It was the way he dealt with that which transformed him into Voldemort. After all, his perspective on life came from the cage in which he was held captive in. Tom was trapped in a cage of hate: hate for the man who abandoned his mother, hate for the mother who left him before he was in the world, and most of all, hate for the lack of love in his life.'  
Cassandra slumped sadly in the chair. 'Why are you telling me all this, Sir?'  
'I'm telling you this because all of your similarities and your critical differences to Tom Riddle mean you are the only person who could do this.'  
'Do what?!' Cass snapped.  
'Prevent Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort!'  
Silence filled the room for a long moment.  
'Are you off your rocker?' The words slid out without Cass's permission. 'I mean . . . Sir, how on earth could anyone _stop_ Tom Riddle before he turns into Voldemort? It's already happened!'  
'It's simple. Time travel, Cassandra. Time travel.'  
'You call that _simple_?' She said after letting her mouth hang open for a few seconds. 'Time travel is strictly illegal. Not to mention _incredibly dangerous_!'  
'That's why I need someone who won't be missed if they never come back.'  
Cassandra fell silent. He was right, of course. Who would miss her? The quiet little girl in the background, the 'You know the one, that chick who punched out Draco that time?' girl who's name less than twenty people in the world knew. If she disappeared into the past, only Dumbledore would care.  
But perhaps she could change that? If she put more effort into how she looked, or threw herself out there into the big, wide world of socialising, maybe, just maybe, she could find people who would care if she up and left and never returned. Or maybe she couldn't. What if she just came off as desperate and annoying? What if she just brought herself more hate, instead of the love she sought?  
'And . . . if I were to agree, what would it entail?'  
'A complicated spell must be woven during an eclipse. You would be sent back to the year 1943, the year Tom Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets for the first time. If you say yes, you must at all costs, stop him before he unleashes the Basilisk upon a Muggleborn student. I believe it was at this point that Tom truly began his descent into evil.'  
Cassandra gripped the Headmaster's desk so hard her knuckles went white. 'Would . . . would I have to kill him?'  
The man's beard shifted solemnly. 'If all else fails, yes.'  
The wind left Cass's lungs and her head dropped. As a sob formulated, Dumbledore watched her sadly.  
'Please understand, Cassandra, that no one is forcing you to do this. It's completely up to you. But you must decide swiftly.' Cass's tearful grey eyes met Dumbledore's grim blue ones. 'However, I do not expect the chosen one to return. Time travel is an unexplored caste of magic. The risk that something will go wrong is great. I know it is much to ask from a student, but only a student could lower Tom's guard.'  
The only response he received was a tear gliding down Cassandra's face.  
'Perhaps you should come back tomorrow morning with a decision?'  
'No. No, I have decided.' Her steely voice shocked Dumbledore. 'I'll do it. I'll stop Tom Riddle.'  
Dumbledore nodded and leaned back in his chair.  
'I knew you would.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh, my gosh, guys! I am so sorry it took so long for this chapter to be released, and I know it's not my best writing anyway. I lost inspiration and I hit a rough patch at school, but I promise I'll get the next chapter out soon. Thank you to anyone who is still going to read my story!**

 **Thank you to AvalonTheLadyKiller for your awesome review. Yes, that's exactly what I intend to do with Cass, but make sure to tell me if she gets too Mary-Sue ish. :)**

 **Also, thank you ThePhantomismyLove, Lizzie00 and CountOnIllusions for leaving reviews as well.**

 **R.I.P Alan Rickman, the man who we all loved to hate as Professor Snape. May his memory live on.**

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Chapter 5

After Cassandra spoke the words that would change her life forever, everything passed by in a blur. Dumbledore spoke to her of things she didn't understand; Horcruxes and murder, Riddles and killing curses. She heard the words, but they meant nothing.  
Later, she would vaguely recall the Headmaster escorting her to her dorm, promising there would be no vengeful girls pursuing her in the night.  
The next morning, Cassandra awoke from unforgiving nightmares, only to find everything had been real and not just a dream. A note beside her bed informed her that the eclipse was tonight and to meet Dumbledore in the clock tower by midnight.  
The day passed. Cassandra felt as though she was still asleep, trapped in a dream.  
It was only when midnight approached that she came back to her senses. She found herself by her bed, wearing plain grey robes, wand in hand, wondering what else she could take. Was this all? Robes and a wand? There had to be something, _anything_ that attached her to this world.  
She drifted to her bookshelf and ran her hand along the spines of her treasured novels. Most were Muggle books smuggled into Hogwarts from the orphanage she'd been raised in. Her hand stopped on To Kill A Mockingbird. Creased and worn, it had stayed with her through thick and thin. Read over and over again, she'd spilt water on it, and dog-eared her favourite pages.  
Cassandra jumped when her alarm clock blared and the time blinked.  
11:45 p.m. Crap. She was nearly late.  
'Turn that bloody thing off!' Millicent slurred furiously from her bed.  
'Sorry,' Cass murmured, stopping the alarm. She slid To Kill A Mockingbird into her robes and rushed out the door for the final time.  
Hogwarts was dark and silent. Few lamps still burned in the castle's towers. Everyone was asleep. Except her. She, the most insignificant of witches, was embarking on a mission deserving of someone far more heroic, like Harry Potter or Gilderoy Lockhart.  
Her.  
She laughed breathlessly to herself as she ran.

Cass was halfway to the clock tower when Pansy Parkinson stepped out from a particularly dark shadow. Cass couldn't stop in time and skidded straight into her.  
'Where are you scurrying off to at this time of night, little rat?' She said, sneering. 'Only prefects can be in the halls after curfew.'  
Cassandra attempted to step around her, but she blocked her way.  
Panting, Cass lowered her gaze. 'Please, Pansy.'  
'Oh, no.' Pansy barked out a bitter laugh. 'You're not going anywhere after what you did to my Draco.'  
Just as Cass was about to run for it, Pansy roughly grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a wall.  
Cass yelped in pain and fear. 'Stop!'  
Pansy's arm pulled back. Cass cried out as the girl's fist went soaring down towards her face.  
Before she even knew she'd moved, Cassandra's wand was out and aimed at the bully.  
'Stupefy!' There was a flash of blue light.  
Cass watched with sick relief as Pansy's eyes rolled back in her head. A second later her unconscious body had slumped to the ground.  
Cassandra cleared her throat nervously, looking around and straightening her robes.  
'I'm sure someone will find you,' she murmured to the collapsed girl, stepping carefully around her and striding towards the tower.  
' _I don't know where this new me is coming from, but I like her_ ,' she thought to herself with a small grin.  
By the time she reached the top of the clock tower, there were only 5 minutes until midnight. Dumbledore stood waiting for her.  
'I thought perhaps you'd reconsidered, Cassandra.' He reprimanded her gently.  
'Sorry. I ran into a little … trouble.' The Headmaster stared at her over his half-moon spectacles curiously. She clarified, 'Pansy attacked me.'  
A deep sigh ran through Dumbledore. 'Ah, yes. Quite the troublemaker, she is. Fortunately, where you're going, Pansy hasn't been born yet.'  
'God. I don't want to think about that.' Cass's voice shook with emotion. 'Let's do this before I lose my nerve.'  
Nodding, Dumbledore stepped forward with an envelope in his hand. Cass took it.  
'Remember, you won't be enrolled when you arrive. Request to see me at the first opportunity and give me this. I'll understand and help you with anything you need.'  
Cassandra looked at the letter curiously, but before she could ask any questions, the clock tower's massive bells _DONG_ ed. The witch's teeth rattled with the bells so close.  
Midnight had arrived.  
'We have to begin _now_!' Dumbledore called over the second bell toll. Cassandra gave him a thumbs up, slipping the envelope into her breast pocket.  
'Oh, and Cassandra . . . Don't tell anyone the truth!' The Headmaster peered at her meaningfully. The girl nodded, fear building in her chest as the enormity of her situation began to truly dawn on her.  
Dumbledore raised his wand then and began the unfamiliar incantation. Cass felt a strange pressure building in her chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Breathing became difficult as the spell continued. Cassandra's knees wobbled as she struggled to stay upright.  
The clock's chiming reverberated through her body, vibrating the blood in her veins.  
As Dumbledore chanted, the huge clock face behind him began to spin. Slowly at first, then quicker and quicker, until the numbers were a blur and the hands were practically invisible.  
Nausea and dizziness washed through her; she could barely stay standing.  
Dumbledore chanted ceaselessly, but his eyes betrayed his concern as the girl in front of him clutched at her chest, wheezing.  
Cassandra fell to her knees, black spots appearing in her vision.  
' _Am I going to die_?' was the last thought in her head before the ground opened up and swallowed her whole.

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 **Sorry, it's so short.  
Make sure to leave a review! I love to hear what people think :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow, okay, I'm really bad at deadlines. I'm so sorry! But I'm posting two chapters today so hopefully that will make up for it! Thank you to anyone who is still reading my story!**

 **Thank you MyNightWish for your reviews. We'll see how her parents passed away … ;)**

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Chapter 6

Cassandra came to with a desperate gasp for air. Instead of oxygen, icy water surged down her throat. Choking and disoriented, she looked around wildly with burning eyes to find herself submerged in murky green water.  
She panicked, horrified, thrashing her limbs in an attempt to reach oxygen. Her legs only became tangled in her stifling robes, causing her to sink faster.  
Pressure built in her chest until she couldn't bear it anymore and sucked in a freezing lungful of water.  
Once again, within a span of what felt like a few seconds, dark spots invaded her vision. Woozy, her head drooped as her body was denied the air it needed.  
Cassandra could feel life slipping away when, out of nowhere, a thick rope wrapped around her torso. It went taut, dragging her swiftly towards the surface. She rocketed from the surface like a flying fish, spraying water, and landed with a dull thud on a muddy bank.  
Coughing up what felt like a ton of water, all Cass could do was lay limply with her cheek pressed against the mud. Finally, she could breathe.  
The exhausted young witch lifted her head to thank whoever had saved her and froze with shock. What she had thought was a rope was in fact a thick red tentacle. Her eyes reluctantly followed the long appendage. Settled quite unnaturally in the shallows, a Giant Squid sat examining her with one massive inquisitive eyeball.  
She yelped and scuttled on all fours away from the monster.  
After recovering from the initial shock, her mind began to race.  
Was this the squid that lived in the Great Lake? The one she'd watched frolic in the depths from the portholes of the Slytherin Common Room?  
'You saved me.' She croaked feebly to the creature, her throat coarse and burning. The bulging great eye blinked. 'Thank you. I would have drowned if not for you.'  
The huge red beast emitted a pleased keening sound before sliding rather gracefully back into the lake with hardly a splash to be heard.  
The girl shook her head with disbelief. She'd supposedly travelled through time, nearly drowned and been saved by a Giant Squid and she hadn't even _met_ the young Dark Lord yet. Cass puffed out her cheeks and let her body fall backward.

After resting spreadeagled for a while, Cassandra sat up, dripping and shivering, to find out where on earth she was.  
The lake she'd become so unwillingly intimate with stretched on forever before her. To her right, she spied an imposing stone castle proudly settled on a rocky outcropping jutting out into the loch.  
Hogwarts. It looked exactly the same.  
 _Did the spell work?_ The soaking girl wondered. Was she truly in 1943? Had she really not been born yet? And the most important question: could she actually stop Lord Voldemort from becoming … well, Lord Voldemort?  
'Only one way to find out,' Cassandra mumbled to herself. With a grunt, the witch heaved herself up off the ground and started on the long, gruelling trek to the distant school.

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 **So close and yet so far! Don't forget to leave a review with any ideas or thoughts! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, it's a few days late, but it's here! Chapter 7! The one you've all been waiting for (probably)! And it's my longest chapter yet ..**

 **Thank you to hottieanimegurl and Guest for your reviews! :)**

 **Enjoy!**

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Chapter 7

By the time Cassandra reached the tall wooden entry doors, she'd completely dried off and the sun was peeking over the horizon. The doors were closed, which wasn't surprising, given how early it was.  
Blinking with confusion, she saw a strange lack of door knobs on the wood before her.  
'What?' she mumbled. Cassandra swore she could remember there being door knobs here. 'Huh. I guess something _has_ changed.'  
She knocked hesitantly and waited. No one answered.  
She knocked again. Same result.  
 _Everyone's asleep,_ she thought to herself.  
Reluctantly, the witch gave a door a light push, but it didn't budge. She tried again with more force, and still the doors stayed resiliently closed.  
Irritated, she glanced around to make sure no one was watching her, and then slammed her shoulder into the wood as hard as she could. Nothing happened.  
'Ow!' she cried, cradling her injured shoulder and glaring at the door. 'What the hell?'  
With a growl, the girl whipped out her wand to use the Unlocking Charm, when her brain screamed at her to stop.  
 _Slow down, girl. This is Hogwarts' front door, not a locked broom closet. There'll be protective charms everywhere to defend against people trying to enter the school uninvited. Like you. Remember, you're not a student at_ this _Hogwarts._  
Taking a deep calming breath, she slid her wand back into her robes.  
Cass supposed she could wait for classes to commence. The doors would surely be unlocked by then. But by the look of the sun, it had to be around 6:00am. She'd be sitting here for hours.  
She lifted her fist to knock once more, just in case, when the door swung inward so abruptly it threw Cassandra off-balance.  
Standing just inside was a short, podgy boy wearing thick-framed glasses. Cass assumed he was a First Year. His greasy brown hair hung in curls around his plump face. When he saw her, his mouth fell open in shock.  
''re you a Muggle?' The boy asked warily with a loud Cockney accent.  
'N-' The boy interrupted her.  
''Cos if you're a Muggle, I'll 'ave to stun you, won' I?' His hand slipped into his pocket, as if preparing to attack her.  
'I'm not a Muggle,' she said quickly.  
'Oh,' his hand reappeared without his wand. He squinted at her suspiciously. 'oo are you, then?'  
'I'm Cassandra Al-'she stopped herself. Perhaps she should give a false name? Something more nondescript? 'Maxwell. Cassandra Maxwell.'  
'I'm Ernie Prang. First Year.' Ernie puffed out his chest proudly.  
'Well, Ernie, suppose you could take me to Headmaster Dumbledore?'  
''eadmaster? Only 'eadmaster at 'ogwarts is 'eadmaster Dippet. I reckon you meant _Professor_ Dumbledore?'  
Cass gasped inwardly. Of course! Albus Dumbledore wasn't the Headmaster in this decade! Before him, Armando Dippet had been Headmaster.  
The witch shook her head as if to clear it and gave Ernie her most convincing fake smile. With an air of desperation in her voice, she said, 'How silly of me! I meant Professor Dumbledore, of course. So … could you take me to him?'  
The boy frowned and his nose wrinkled as he thought for a few seconds. 'Hmm … I suppose I could.'  
With a sudden grin, he offered her his arm. 'Just take my arm, ma'am, and we'll be there in a flash.'  
Cass smiled and hesitantly obliged. He led her off down a corridor, their arms linked.  
On the way they passed bleary-eyed students who gawked at Cassandra with confusion and shock. People began whispering among themselves. Cassandra shrunk down a little with self-consciousness.  
Ernie patted her hand. 'Don't mind 'em, now. Nosy folks, tha's all they are.'  
Turning a corner, they were very nearly trampled over by the apparently all-male Gryffindor Quidditch team. A deep chorus of 'Ernie!' rang out and, tall and rowdy, a few of them heartily slapped the First Year on the back.  
'You coming to watch the game, Ern?' A pretty-faced, golden-haired boy asked, pausing to let his team pass.  
'You bet, Sammy.'  
'Good,' the guy replied cheerfully. His eyes moved to Cass and lingered. 'I hope you're coming as well.'  
Before she could reply, Sammy's teammates called out for him. He gave Cass a cheeky wink before catching up with the others and disappearing around a corner.  
'They're good fun.' Ernie laughed, his portly cheeks glowing red with glee.  
Blushing fiercely, the witch stared down at her shoes and murmured, 'I'm sure they are.'  
A little lost in her thoughts, Cassandra didn't notice someone turning into the corridor ahead of them.  
It was only when she heard urgent footsteps approaching did she finally glance up.  
A tall, broad-shouldered boy was hurrying towards them, his well-fitted black robes billowing out behind him. Even from a distance he was gorgeous.  
For just a second, the witch felt slightly bitter. _Where were all the good-looking boys at_ her _Hogwarts?_  
As he grew closer, Cass had a better view of his face. Strong-jawed, with a straight nose, piercingly dark eyes and short black hair styled into waves, he was intimidatingly attractive.  
'Ernie,' the boy called in a deep, authoritative voice, 'who is this?'  
Cass gulped when his eyes moved coolly to hers.  
'This 'ere's Cassandra Maxwell.' The boy chirped, lifting his chin proudly, as if bragging.  
'And what is she doing here?'  
'Well, she was knocking away at the front doors, so I thought to meself, I'd be'er go answer 'er before she bloody well puts a dent in the wood . . .' As Ernie blabbered on, the boy studied Cassandra, sizing her up, as if she could be some sort of danger to the school.  
Cass almost laughed.  
Glancing up, she met his penetrating gaze head on for a full second before losing her nerve. Staring anywhere but his face, she noticed a prefect badge in the Slytherin colours adorning his chest.  
'Ernest.' The boy finally interrupted his endless chatter. Dipping his head to meet Ernie's eyes, he said in a grave tone. 'You should never have let her in.'  
Ernie's whole body seemed to shrink down a size. 'I-I'm sorry.'  
The boy sighed and patted Ernie's shoulder reassuringly. 'It can't be helped now. Run along, breakfast will be soon.'  
The scolded boy gave Cassandra a sheepish smile before scurrying away like a mouse caught in a kitchen. Alone together, the other wizard directed his voice at her.  
'Miss Maxwell, I will escort you to the Headmaster, if you don't mind.' His tone indicated that she didn't have a choice in the matter.  
Taking a deep breath, she steeled her voice and said, 'I really must speak to Professor Dumbledore at once.'  
For a fraction of a second, Cass thought she saw resentment flicker across his face. But then he shot her an easy smile and her thoughts disappeared. With an arm hovering behind her shoulders, he herded her forward. 'Perhaps Headmaster Dippet will organise a meeting.'  
'Of course. T-thank you.'  
This walk was much less cheerful than the one with Ernie, and she was struggling to keep up with the boy's long-legged stride.  
Hogwarts was really coming to life by then. Students were beginning to swarm through the halls, some running errands but most in search of food. The students looked slightly different than they did in her time period. The boys were far better groomed and the girls almost exclusively had their hair carefully styled. At least now most people were staring at her escort rather than her.  
Cassandra and the boy entered the courtyard. Her eyes flew up to the clock tower, which remained unchanged. The rising sun glinted off the giant Roman numerals.  
How could she have been up there half an hour ago and yet be down here now, decades before then? She couldn't wrap her head around it all.  
Her thoughts were shattered by a mob of girls flocking towards them in a frenzy of giggles and stylishly curled hair.  
'Sweetheart, there you are!' A statuesque girl with glossy black ringlets and a strong New York accent swept up beside the boy, practically shoving Cass away. Pressing the front of her body against his side, she rested her cheek on his shoulder. 'You're sitting with me for breakfast, aren'cha, doll?'  
'Maybe, Caroline. I have to take care of something first.' Gently separating himself from Caroline's close embrace, he gestured to Cass with his head. The girl's cat-like green eyes scanned over Cass and promptly slid away, clearly dismissing her as 'not a threat'.  
'Sure thing, Tommy. See ya' later.' She strutted away, posse in tow, somehow transforming the shapeless grey Hogwarts uniform into something form-flattering. With a glamorous hair flick, she shot him a sultry smouldering look over her shoulder.  
 _Your name is Tommy, huh?_ Cass pondered, looking at the boy from the corner of her eye. She instantly rolled her eyes.  
Tommy seemed utterly enamoured in Caroline's retreating figure. The uncomfortable girl loudly cleared her throat and the bewitched boy awoke from his hormonal stupor. His cool demeanour instantly returned.  
Reluctant to return to the awkward silence, Cass desperately attempted to break the ice as they resumed walking.  
'Your girlfriend seems lovely. Caroline, was it?'  
His eyes forward and posture uncomfortably rigid, he replied, 'Yes. She is lovely.'  
He clearly didn't appreciate the small-talk.  
And so the silence returned.

'This is the Headmaster's office,' Tommy informed Cass. They were standing before the daunting wooden door and the witch's mind was racing.  
What would Headmaster Dippet be like? Would he be wise and comforting like Dumbledore? Or would he be stern and cold? Would he kick her straight out of Hogwarts without hearing her cause? What if she never got a chance to speak to Dumbledore at all?  
Cassandra's breathing hiked. She felt panic closing in on all sides, like a pack of snarling wolves, creeping ever closer.  
 _Get a grip on yourself, Cass! Panicking now is only going to make things worse._  
She clamped down on the fear and locked it away in the back of her mind.  
'Not now,' she muttered.  
'Beg your pardon?' Tommy asked, leaning slightly towards her. She felt her face flush red, and took a miniscule step back.  
'O-oh, nothing.'  
Cass sucked in a deep, calming breath; she was about to meet the man that could make or break her entire mission. As Tommy knocked on the solid wood, the witch sent a quick prayer up to the universe.  
The door swung in almost immediately and a soft but clear voice summoned the pair in. 'Please enter, Miss Aldaine and Mr Riddle.'  
Cassandra's heart skipped a beat. Riddle? _No, it can't be._  
Her companion strode into the room ahead of her, oblivious.  
'T-Tom Riddle?'  
'Yes?' The Dark Lord's head turned and those intelligent dark eyes flashed in the dim glow of candles.

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 **Oooh, boy! Please leave a review and any ideas for the plot because I haven't quite planned the next chapters out yet .. :/ Woops.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, so I don't even know how long it's been but this story has been sitting in the back of my mind for months now. I finally felt the urge to write again! Hopefully, I'll continue feeling the inspiration for this story cos it's fun to write :D**

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Chapter 8

Tom Riddle had quickly grown bored of the shifty eyes and ever-present stutter of Cassandra Maxwell. Initially alarmed at the sight of a woman out of uniform, his interest had peaked as his eyes were drawn to a fiery bloom of curls framing a petite, ivory-skinned face. That is, until she could barely muster the courage to meet his eyes. That brief eye contact exposed intelligent eyes, yes, but full of apprehension and uncertainty. He resisted the strong urge to roll his own eyes at the spineless display.  
 _Still_ , he supposed, _if she truly is a threat to the school, it could all be an act._ He sorely doubted it, though. The way she'd clung to that irritating First Year when he'd approached, her slumped posture as they walked, the poorly-concealed jealousy in her eyes as she'd watched Caroline's interaction with him; she seemed genuine.  
And the intense fear in her eyes as she called his full name was undeniable.  
'T-Tom Riddle?' Her thin voice shook.  
'Yes?' He said, curious what exactly it was that had inspired such terror. He watched her intently as her already fair skin paled to a sickly grey, her lips drained of their rosiness. 'Are you alright, Miss Maxwell?'  
Her responding gulp was clearly visible, despite her nod. His fascination – and confusion – grew. How thrilling it was to have such a strong effect on someone without doing anything at all.  
With a sudden shift of attitude, as if the fear had never existed, the girl drew herself up and met his gaze. The almost metallic grey of her irises shone with a determination which took him aback slightly. Her voice rang out more clearly than he'd ever heard it: 'In my research of this school, I have seen your name mentioned as one of the best and brightest. Forgive me if I seem slightly intimidated.'  
A sheepish laugh bubbled out of her, the previous fearful behaviour replaced by a seemingly confident girl.  
'Oh dear, you've flattered me, Miss Maxwell.' He forced a pleasant laugh as he held the Headmaster's door for her.  
 _She may be a threat after all_ , he mused as the small girl passed by him. _A new student, it seems – and_ _one to keep an eye on.  
_ _

 _I'm standing next to one of the most evil and dangerous wizards of the 20_ _th_ _century – and my sole purpose is to stop him. I'm screwed.  
_ Tom Riddle stood straight upright, hands clasped behind his back, eyes trained on the austere figure of Armando Dippet.  
The Headmaster was seated on a high-backed and – quite frankly – uncomfortable looking chair. He frowned suspiciously at her over his wire-brimmed spectacles, under which an impressive silver beard was tucked into his deep lapis robes.  
Cassandra Aldaine, a fearsome two feet from Tom's side, was potentially on the verge of a total mental breakdown. She had managed to smooth the anxiety off her face and out of her body, but cold and sickly fear had seated itself deep in her heart. This was a critical moment in her mission and she could not afford to mess this up. So, there she stood, bones strained and body exhausted from the teleportation – and faked it. _  
_'Mr Riddle,' the elderly wizard addressed the boy in a gravelly voice without removing his gaze from Cassandra. 'Perhaps you could explain to me how there happens to be a non-student witch standing within the walls of this school, who seems to have bypassed all forms of security without a single professor being alerted?'  
'I'm afraid, Headmaster, that I am as baffled as you are. I found her being escorted to Professor Dumbledore's office by a First Year. The very same student who had opened the front doors to her in the first place. Ernest Prang.' Tom's chin lifted in distaste as he said the name.  
 _Ah, so he's handsome_ and _arrogant,_ Cass grumbled internally. _The worst combination_.  
The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully, and then finally addressed Cassandra.  
'Miss Maxwell, the protection of this school and the safety of its students are of upmost importance to me. I know not how you entered the grounds, nor what your intentions are, but I am afraid that you must be escorted off school property immediately. Resist and you will find yourself in the hands of the Ministry of Magic to await your fate in the criminal justice system.'  
Did they somehow think she was a danger? Speechless at that ridiculous thought, Cassandra noticed his boney hand curling around the worn, iron handle on his wand. She took an abrupt step forward without thinking.  
In an instant, Tom had his wand an inch from her throat. She gasped and stilled, glancing between the boy and the Headmaster, gaping with shock.  
'Please, hear me out before any rash decisions are made,' She begged breathlessly. The Headmaster's piercing eyes gazed into hers as he stroked his beard. Once again, like with Dumbledore, she felt as though all her thoughts and feelings were exposed to the man, as if she was nothing but a book to be flipped through. She sagged a little when Dippet finally waved at Tom to lower his weapon.  
'Please, I am not the danger you suspect I am. I am seeking education. I-I thought I would be expected.' This was where the plan could either succeed or crash and burn. 'I have been home-schooled my entire life. My sole guardian … passed away earlier this year, and I am now forced to complete the rest of my education here at Hogwarts. I have been in contact with Albus Dumbledore, who was meant to greet me this morning at the front gates and conduct my enrolment. However, the gates were ajar, and when I reached the front doors of the castle, Ernie allowed me entry and was taking me to Professor Dumbledore's office.'  
She fell silent as the two males watched her, mulling over her story in search of lies. The story, however, was sound (and not to mention, based in truth). It would all depend on whether Dumbledore would play along.  
Headmaster Dippet straightened in his chair and adopted a sorrowful air. 'My condolences, Miss Maxwell. However, Albus has mentioned no such enrolment. I will summon him and he can inform us of the absolute truth of the matter.'  
 _Except, he'll be as clueless as you_ , Cassandra finished in her head. The letter Dumbledore from her time had given her was burning a hole in her pocket.  
The Headmaster turned to the boy who had remained silent throughout the meeting. 'Mr Riddle, the danger has passed and I believe classes commence shortly.'  
Tom nodded and slipped his wand back into his pocket. 'Then I will take my leave.'  
He left without a word to her. A tenseness in her body she didn't know was there finally released.  
Dippet lifted his wand and with a casual _swish_ , a quill went to work on some parchment. Unease curled in her stomach when she considered dealing with Dumbledore – as well as hunger.  
It was a blessing when the Headmaster asked if she would like some tea and biscuits. Dippet clicked his fingers. Within moments, a tiny creature dressed in a stained pillowcase appeared from behind a wall tapestry, burdened by a tray of teacups, biscuits and delicate napkins. With large protruding ears and enormous yellow eyes, the strange being tottered over to the desk and laid out the meal – it even gently placed a napkin over her lap before stepping back.  
'Do you require anything else, Master? Madam?' the thing asked in a squeaky voice.  
'That's all for now, Hooky. Thank you very much,' the Headmaster smiled, before sipping his tea.  
'A house elf?' Cass asked. Dippet nodded serenely. 'I've never seen one before.'  
'They are ones for working in the shadows, never wishing for payment or excessive praise. A strange species, indeed.' He blew on his tea ponderously. 'Your family did not own one?'  
Suddenly intensely studying her teacup, Cassandra once again tried to stick to the truth. 'No, we were not wealthy, nor did we feel the need for a housekeeper when it was just my mother and I.'  
'Once again, I am greatly sorry for your loss, and hope that once this is all sorted, your transition into Hogwarts will be an easy one.' His eyes shone with true kindness, and she felt her throat closing slightly with emotion. For her real parents and their awful fates, for the transition into this school that was for one impossible purpose, for the life she could have led had she chosen to say no to Dumbledore.  
But she was here now, and she had to make this work. What other choice did she have?  
It was then that a knock sounded at the door. She gathered her courage, and sent a prayer up to anyone who would listen.  
The door slid aside, and there, in cloudy grey robes, stood Albus Dumbledore.  
And, boy, did he still look really old.


End file.
